Because You Said So
by VirgoMaiden
Summary: After the episode "Summer Love." Arnold told Helga to stay out of his life. That was over a month ago... so why is she still doing that? Also, why is Arnold confused by her absence from his life? And what will an unexpected visit bring? HIATUS
1. Prologue

**A/N:** First HA fanfic, based on a whim. Please tell me how it turns out.

**Disclaimer:** HA belongs to Craig Bartlett. Not me.

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**Prologue**

It's fall again. Like every time before, the leaves have begun to turn the bright shades of orange, red, and yellow. Like every time, the air smells sweeter, the pond in the park becomes bluer, and there's a sense of melancholy as this happens.

Like every time before on August 27th, Helga is dutifully bound to her backpack, trudging up the hills and braving the numerous bus stops before finally stopping at PS 118.

But instead, _unlike_ every time before, when she is approached by dozens of children, each asking how her summer vacation has gone, she smiles, tells them that it was Fine, Thank You, and that The Beach Is Really Beautiful. Then, she turns around and walks away, and whatever kid had approached her is standing, shell-shocked, because Helga G. Pataki _never _says the word "Beautiful."

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He doesn't look at her as she enters the room, as he's in the middle of talking to Gerald, but she doesn't sweat it; it's what happens every year. Instead, she catches Phoebe's eye, and as the small girl smiles, she makes her way to the back of the room and slides into a seat next to her.

"Have a good summer, Helga?" was Phoebe's small replty. She smiles tentatively, as she has heard the rumors of a "changed Helga." She quietly hopes that the said Helga is feeling alright, or at least isn't in the mood to renounce their friendship. Because while Helga can make her sad, she really does appreciate the bond that the two of them have, and would care if Helga declared herself "above" Phoebe. Or, at least, that's what it says in _her_ mind.

Helga shrugged. "It was okay. Went to the beach with Bob and Miriam. Built some sandcastles. Swam in the ocean… The usual stuff. And yours?"

Phoebe flinches at this question; Helga has never really asked what she has done in her pastime before… She covers the look up quickly, before she thinks that the blonde notices, and quickly answers. "I went to Japan with my parents and saw some family. We went to some hot springs and it was really refreshing!" As she continues on about her stay, a corner of Helga's mouth twitches slightly, having noticed Phoebe's shock at her question.

She can too be nice… But it was too bad that Arnold wouldn't be able to see that.

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**A/N:** After the episode "The Beach," I think it was called… No confession involved. I'll give more insight to the episode later in the story.

Review, please.

VM


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for all your patience

**A/N: **Thanks for all your patience. Seriously.

**Disclaimer: **The prologue says it all; no repetition for me, thanks. (read: last disclaimer for the story)

**-oOo-**

**Because You Said So**

**Chapter One**

**By VirgoMaiden**

**-oOo-**

Fifth grade had been in session for two weeks – now being the second, glorious weekend – when Gerald woke up to the sounds of little tiny pebbles being thrown at his bedroom window. Groggily, he sat up and, absently scratching his side, made his way over to said window. He opened it, stuck out his head, and his nose was immediately stricken with a pebble.

"Ow! Hey!" he said, rubbing the sore spot. "What the…"

"Gerald!"

Looking down, Gerald saw Arnold, bat resting on one shoulder, glove in one hand. "Some of the guys are going to the park to play Gerald Ball!" he shouted up. "Come on!"

"One minute, man!" Gerald called down, now fully awake.

He shut the window, his last sight of his buddy being his goofy smile, and made his way to his dresser.

Arnold had been really happy lately, he mused, pulling out his trademark jersey. Like spring-in-his-step, a-little-ray-of-sunshine happy. While not unusual for his football-headed friend to be a mini sunshine ray, it was for him to stay so happy for so long. And the only logical reason for that, he figured, was because Helga G. Pataki had just about dropped off their radar in a split second.

_She hasn't made a single snide comment to him for a few weeks, _he thought, putting on his sneakers. _Even Phoebe's keeping her distance from us… _

He grabbed his bat and wrote a note to his parents on the kitchen counter. _It's almost like she moved away._

But she hadn't. Helga, while still having her usual in-your-face attitude to a select few (their new teacher, Ms. Ralston, Harold, Brainy…), she had basically been ignoring Arnold completely. If they were headed for a collision in the halls, she would take a sharp turn. If their table was the only one open at lunch, she sat on the floor, facing the opposite direction. Her peculiar behavior had been getting a lot of attention lately, but not from her ex-prime target, Arnold.

He had taken it in stride, hardly looking Helga's way as she chose a seat far away from him and resorted to shooting spitballs at Eugene (who promptly fell over onto the floor, earning a few snide laughs).

In fact, the only people that seemed to care lately that Helga was forgetting Arnold entirely was Phoebe and Gerald.

**-oOo-**

"So…" Gerald said slowly as he made his way down his front steps, "who's coming to this thing?"

"Harold, Curly, Stinky, Sid… the usual crew," Arnold said, smiling widely. "Maybe that new kid, Adam? I hear that he's a real Babe Ruth."

"He is," Gerald said, waiting for the cross light to go on. "When you were sick last weekend, he was one of the main reasons that we were able to beat the sixth-graders. Wolfgang was _furious._"

"He's pretty cool, too, you know," Arnold added, waving to Mrs. Petrelli. "He hasn't made a crack about my head yet."

"Maybe because he's got a crazy haircut," Gerald said. "Or the fact that Helga hasn't made reference to it yet."

He looked over at Arnold, almost hoping that the mention of his one-time adversary would trigger a suitable reaction of sorts: a diss, a mention of how weird she'd been acting lately… but nothing.

"Yeah," Arnold said absently, looking across the street as they waited to cross over to the lot.

As they neared the playing field, he spotted a familiar pink bow winding up for the pitch. _Speak of the devil,_ he thought. He saw her finally throw it, and how far Harold went when he caught it.

_Practice, I'm guessing. Nice to see that Old Betsy hasn't failed her yet._

Harold, catching sight of Gerald and Arnold, took off his glove to wave. Helga looked over at the two of them, not fully recognizing them at first. Then, when she did, Gerald saw her so something that she hadn't done in all the years that he had known her:

She froze.

But only for a second, for the next, she shook her head and waved her hand over to whom he then saw as Phoebe. The two conferenced for a moment, before she took off her glove and tossed it to Stinky. As he and Arnold neared, her heard what she was saying to them.

"...Home! I forgot that I gotta go in for boxing soon."

"Aw, come on, Helga," Harold whined. "You only showed up last week by chance. And we lost week before without you!"

"Adam can handle it," she said, mentioning to him.

"No problem, Helga," he said in his smooth voice, taking the extra glove from Harold. "Make sure you can come next week, okay? It's great playing with you."

"Sure thing," she said, before looking over her shoulder. "Come on, Pheebs."

Phoebe looked back at Gerald, giving him a confused expression, before following her best friend across the street.

"Well," Sid said, surveying the spot where the two had just left their line of vision, "that was weird."

"If you say so," Stinky said, shrugging. "Hey, Arnold, mind if I see that bat for a minute?"

"Sure thing, Stink," Arnold said, completely oblivious to the transaction that had just taken place before him. And, as Gerald supposed, because of him.

_Yep,_Gerald thought, passing the ball with Harold, _something's up. And he's not telling me what it is._

**-oOo-**

**A/N: **I posted the first chapter (the prologue) on a whim, but I started to feel really bad about leaving it for so long. (like my other stories…)

Another thing: It's been a while since I've watched, but if I've gotten the name wrong for that fifth grader that they're constantly fighting with, would you be so kind as to tell me? I really don't want to seem like an idiot…

Review, please.

VM


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: As always, your response astounds me

**A/N: **As always, your response astounds me. It's always so cool, especially in a small (read: cool) fandom, to get such feedback.

In this chapter, to complete the BFF POV, we'll be peeking into the mind of Phoebe. Here goes…

**-oOo-**

**Because You Said So**

**Chapter Three**

**By VirgoMaiden**

**-oOo-**

It was the second weekend of fifth grade when Helga knocked on Phoebe's bedroom window, cheeks pressed against the glass.

Phoebe was awake immediately, and rushed to open the window. Helga tumbled through the sill and landed in a rather ungraceful pile at the small girl's feet.

"Are you all right, Helga?" Phoebe asked immediately, helping her up.

Helga cracked a cynical smile. "Just fine, Pheebs. Sure, I totally banged my knee and elbow… But what doesn't kill us just makes us stronger, right?" She stretched her arms behind her back. "Get dressed. I'll be waiting in your kitchen."

Phoebe did as she was told, and as she walked in the modern kitchen (a deep contrast to most of the house), she spotted Helga sitting at the table, drinking a mug of coffee. Phoebe smiled and grabbed her book off of the counter.

"Are you ready to go, Helga?"

"More than ready, Pheebs."  As Phoebe left a note on the counter to tell her parents where she was headed, whom with, and when she expected to be back (she figured about noon – it was a bit after seven thirty now), Helga made her way out the door, waiting on the stoop.

"You're in a good mood, Helga," Phoebe commented as they walked down the street. While it was almost eight (and a Saturday), there were lots of kids running around, so the two had to be careful in order to stay together.

"I dunno why, Phoebe," Helga said, leaning her head back and inhaling deeply. "I just _am._ Woke up in a good mood. Early. That's how I found out about the ball game this morning." 

"Let's hope that today stays pleasant for you, then," Phoebe said, keeping her book close to her chest.

Helga had been acting peculiar lately. While it was true that she still had her I-take-nothing-from-nobody kind of attitude, she had been getting rather…strange…in some ways. Except for the odd authority figure, she had been reserved around more people. Like Gerald and Arnold, for instance. After break, she seemed to avoid the two of them completely, for reasons still unknown to herself.

She sighed and her head dropped. _It's probably nothing, _she told herself. _I'm just making a mountain out of a molehill…_

**-oOo-**

"That's a good pitch, Helga!" Phoebe called out from her spot on the bench, book forgotten. "That's the third one that's hurt Harold!" Then, as an afterthought, added a "Sorry, Harold!"

He waved in reply and Helga caught the throw from Harold easily. "Thanks, Pheebs!" she yelled back. Which was another addition of her new strange attitudes. Helga had taken a nicer swing of attitude towards Phoebe lately, and while she didn't mind, she couldn't help but think that she was acting such forcefully.

Helga threw another pitch, but this time, as Harold grunted from the impact (_"Old Betsy" must keep on getting stronger every day..)_, he stopped and waved at two approaching figures. "It's Arnold and Gerald!" he shouted to the others. Phoebe looked over at Helga, and – instead of her usual uncaring persona, saw that her friend had frozen up momentarily.

She shook herself out of it, though. Then, in another surprising act, she waved Phoebe over in a manner that heavily suggested that a conference was in order.

"What's the matter, Helga?" she asked.

"I don't think that we should stay around," Helga answered cryptically. "Trust me."

"Only if you'll tell me why later," Phoebe insisted, in a surprising act.

Helga shrugged. "Sure," she said, and then began peeling off her glove. (Which had actually been borrowed from Stinky, but he didn't need much persuading to give it to her.)

"Hey, dorks!" she said loudly. "I think that I'm gonna blow this fiesta and go home – ''

Phoebe looked over at Gerald and Arnold. Gerald was giving Helga a peculiar look as he neared.

"…Boxing soon," Helga finished. This part Phoebe was definitely surprised at; Helga didn't take boxing. She often claimed that she had taught herself well enough.

"Aw, come on, Helga," Harold complained. "You only showed up last week by chance. And we lost the week before without you!"

"Adam can handle it," she said, motioning towards him.

"No problem, Helga," he said in his smooth voice, taking the extra glove from Harold. "Make sure you can come next week, okay? It's great playing with you."

"Sure thing," she said, before looking over her shoulder. "Come on, Pheebs."

Phoebe looked back at Gerald, giving him a confused expression, before following her best friend across the street.

"Are you feeling all right?" Phoebe asked, trying to keep up with Helga's long strides. "You seemed to be feeling fine this morning."

Helga gave her a look that Phoebe immediately recognized that she was going to be defensive.

"I'm fine," she snapped. "I just wasn't in the mood to play around with Football Head and Jock-o. Everything's just _peachy_."

"And things at home?"

Helga raised and eyebrow. "Since we've gotten back from the beach, Miriam's been having her new friend Susie over all the time. They're both out constantly, dancing. And Bob's been focusing only on his health, and wanting to _bond…_" she shuddered.

Phoebe, not realizing why such things were such an awful annoyance, offered a small "Oh."

They turned the corner and arrived at Helga's big blue house.

"I'll see you later, Pheebs," Helga said, looking over in the general direction of the field. "Maybe I'll call about science. Or what we were talking about earlier."

"Okay," Phoebe said, smiling. "I'll see you later."

Helga went inside, the door slamming shut behind her. Phoebe continued to smile, this time almost ruefully, and turned around, tucking her book under her arm.

Something was wrong with Helga, and considering that Gerald had apparently noticed it too, she wasn't too off on her theory.

**-oOo-**

**A/N: **Yes, I'm going with the best friends first, but Arnold will be next. Promise.

VM


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